


Riders on the Storm

by voodoochild



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd thought Jack had warned her about everything. How could he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riders on the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle VII, for the prompt "Nine/Tosh, legend". Set pre-"Rose".

She learns - as Jack has told her - that when you travel with the Doctor, your name is woven into some of the oldest stories in the universe.

On Laloptera, home of the greatest historians in the universe, historians tell of a "tosh-ee-koh" venturing out into the greatest of storms, placing her hand upon the lightning, singing to the thunder, and walking out under a calm sky.

Jack has warned her about Satellite Five, the Daleks, and the Master, and the lure of the Doctor. But oh, Jack hadn't told her this. How the Doctor's anger transformed him into the most avenging of angels, and stripped away everything that was even slightly awkward - or, indeed, human - about him.

"How dare they? You lot have already learned that slavery isn't the way to go, and if a bunch of stupid apes can figure it out, why can't they?"

She placed a hand on his back, and it was the first time she'd touched him anywhere but his hand. As he turned around, he didn't need to vocalize what was in his eyes - don't, or you'll get burned - but Tosh spent enough time in UNIT's prison to learn to play with fire. She laced her fingers in his, and leaned up to kiss him.

There's more than one kind of fire, and she found herself lifted against him, his blue eyes - older than seas and skies on worlds she'd never seen - asking only one question. Her answer is, of course, yes, and he seals his mouth to hers, tongue licking hotly at the seam to her lips and then sliding against hers. She gasps, locking her legs around his waist, and runs her hands over his cropped hair. It's softer than she expects; everything about him is sharp, designed for utility and not comfort. The leather of his jacket scrapes against her silk blouse, and the snap of his jeans digs into the flesh of her inner thigh.

He flashes her one of those trademark grins as he sets her down again, then removes the jacket to lay it down on the sand. Tosh kicks off her shoes - flats, the one concession she has to this life of running - and starts to shimmy out of her blouse. His hands assist her in getting it halfway down her arms, then flick the snap of her bra and divest her of that along with her shirt.

He's still fully clothed, but doesn't give her the opportunity to return the favor as he runs a finger over the cuve of one breast, grinning at her self-conscious shiver. He pulls her down to kneel opposite him, and his mouth is on her breast, hellbent on making her come from that alone. His teeth scrape at her nipple, then his mouth trails over to her other breast, licking and biting until a scream tears itself from her.

"Good girl," he says, his hand sliding up her skirt. He laughs wickedly as he encounters her lack of panties, and she kisses his amusement right out of him, shoving him onto his back and straddling him. His hand remains between her legs, thumb flicking her clit as he sinks two fingers into her, but she's got just enough coherency left to pull his jumper over his head and unsnap the button to his jeans.

He wrings one orgasm out of her while she negotiates removing his jeans, single-mindedly rubbing her clit and fucking her with his fingers until she tightens around them in surprise. Then he guides himself into her, rolling her over so that she's on top, and oh, he is a mind-reader then. At her nod, he takes hold of her hips and begins fucking her, hard, encouraging her to move faster in counterpoint.

Looking down at him, the fierce concentration on his face, she thinks she knows why Jack loved this Doctor best. She knows how it works - he's the same man, he just looks different - but there's something primal, something about this Doctor that she's never seen in the one Martha knew and spoke of. This Doctor hates fiercely and loves even more fiercely. If she's not careful, she could easily throw away everything to stay with him.

As she comes again, equations behind her eyes and in his voice, she makes her decision. When they return to the city, she asks the scribes for one thing: a copy of the "tosh-ee-koh" legend written in English. She wishes she could stay with him, but a letter, left on the TARDIS console, will have to do.

_Find the one you can share the storm with, my Doctor. London is nice this time of year._


End file.
